


Mercy

by Etherborn



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Dark One Shot, Family, Overpowered Zuko, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Revenge is Best Served Hot, Suspense, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko Getting Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etherborn/pseuds/Etherborn
Summary: “You’ll spend the rest of your life an empty shell of your self proclaimed greatness. You’ll know, in every waking hour you wish for death, that you are defeated. Disgraced. Dishonored, as I once was. But for you, there will be no redemption. That is my mercy, Ozai.” Crossposted to FFN under the name The Lost Samurai
Comments: 11
Kudos: 87





	Mercy

Mercy

The tides had turned so quickly that it was enough to give them all whiplash. They had shown up to this battle knowing that they most likely wouldn’t survive. It had been a slow realization, gradually creeping up on Team Avatar since they’d fled the Western Air Temple. Since Zuko had faced off against Azula atop the Fire Nation airship, and both had been thrown off the sides into freefall. Since Katara’s hand had just barely missed his, and the group had collectively screamed his name in anguish as he plummeted. Since he had bent fire from his arms and legs, a last desperate attempt to replicate his prodigal sister’s propulsion technique, before disappearing into the mist below. Since they had been forced to fly away, haunted by the echoes of Azula’s crazed laughter.

Everything had gone downhill from there. The group’s morale had hit a record low at the loss of one of their comrades. Even Katara, still so cold and reluctant to accept Zuko into the group, had mourned, a hollow look in her arctic blue eyes as she set up their new camp on autopilot. No one asked if she’d hesitated. No one dared. 

But her quiet sobs and whispered apologies in the dead of night, when they could all pretend the others were truly asleep, had been sufficient answer.

Aang had held out hope that he was alive. They hadn’t seen a body, and Zuko had survived worse, right?

But the weeks passed. And for all his stubbornness, all his bullheaded drive, all his experience in tracking the Avatar, there was no prickly firebender wandering into their campsite to put their fears to rest, no dry humor dripping from his tongue upon entrance and no quiet rasp of Hello, Zuko here. No levity in the face of death.

And as news of the infamous traitor’s demise had spread through the land like wildfire, Aang’s hopes began to plummet.

Then one day, Toph had shouted a warning as they were about to sleep, and their camp was surrounded. General Iroh, leading the Order of the White Lotus, had asked them, with pale face and dark circles under his eyes, if it was true. When none of them met his gaze, he collapsed, and the sight of the old man’s grief had refreshed their own.

But they’d still had a war to win. And so both rebel groups, young and old, had joined forces, and formed a plan.

Hearing Iroh recite the Fire Lord’s plans for the day Sozin’s Comet arrived had been horrifying, but it had been exactly what they needed to hear to shelve their grief and focus on the mission. Iroh had continued Aang’s training, and the young Avatar had poured himself into it with renewed fervor. But although Iroh was an excellent master and teacher, something wasn’t the same. Something simply hadn’t clicked in their training sessions the way it had with Zuko, and despite Iroh’s offered explanation, Aang didn’t think destiny had anything to do with it. The difference was in the wisdom Aang wanted to question but didn’t, the stark disparity between Fire is life, and nothing to be feared and Fire is life, and you better fear and respect it.

Iroh had always found beauty in fire. But like Aang, Zuko had found both beauty and fear in it. And somehow, that made all the difference. 

Though his progress slowed a bit, he still improved his firebending at a rapid rate. He had even learned to redirect lightning, as Zuko had. And although he had Iroh’s confidence by the time the week of Sozin’s Comet arrived, Aang knew deep in his heart that he hadn’t yet mastered firebending.

A few days before the comet, they learned from Master Piandao how Zuko got his scar, and Aang kept his misgivings about killing the Fire Lord to himself. The thought turned his guts to lead. He could never envision himself taking the life of another. But there was also a fire in his gut, a baser instinct he’d first felt in the blistering heat of the Si Wong Desert, which said that if being merciful meant Fire Lord Ozai got to live when Zuko didn’t, then maybe mercy wasn’t always right. 

On the day the comet arrived, Iroh had wished them all luck as he prepared to leave for the Fire Nation capital city, citing his need to keep Azula off the throne. Katara had offered to go with him, but he had insisted on going alone. It was his responsibility, his duty to the son he couldn’t save. 

The rest of the White Lotus had gone to free Ba Sing Se, and that left the Avatar and his friends to face the Fire Lord and his fleet of airships. 

It had been the hardest battle they’d fought. Aang managed to take down one airship before Ozai flew through the air with his fire and landed in front of him. While Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Suki occupied themselves with the airships, ensuring that they weren’t able to lay waste to the Earth Kingdom, Aang fought one on one against Ozai. 

His lack of mastery had shown mere seconds into the fight. He used all four elements in tandem, a true force to be reckoned with. He could be as light as air, as adaptable as water, and as rigid as earth at a moment’s notice. But when it came time for him to be fierce as fire, something was still missing. The Fire Lord was able to break through his coordinated strikes with sheer brute force. Though he had mastered three elements, Ozai had mastered his own to a greater degree, and with all of his attacks empowered by Sozin’s Comet, Aang constantly found himself on the defensive. Of course, his own firebending was enhanced as well. But Aang’s fears were beginning to be confirmed with every fireball that came closer to burning him alive in his haste to disperse it.

His own firebending wasn’t enough. 

He saw his chance when Ozai began shooting lightning at him. After dodging the first few strikes with his airbending, he had gotten the timing down, and was able to catch the lightning in his fingertips, channeling it down into his stomach and out his other arm. As he took aim at Ozai, he saw a flash of fear on the Fire Lord’s face.

He had hesitated for a brief moment, then remembered that Zuko probably had a similar look on his face before it was burned off. 

He shot the lightning straight at Ozai.

But that brief moment of hesitation had cost him.

Ozai had propelled himself to the side, causing the lightning to miss him by mere inches, before attacking Aang with renewed vigor, using only fire.

Aang was barely able to put up a shield of fire and air before he was blasted out of the sky, hurtling toward the water below them. He used his waterbending to catch himself, but Ozai was quick to pursue, descending towards him like a fiery bird of prey. 

Off balance, Aang was ready to encase himself in earth as a last resort.

What happened next felt like something out of a dream, or maybe a cactus juice hallucination. 

The air, already scorching due to the presence of the comet, became searing, to the point where even the two firebenders found it unbearable. 

The atmosphere seemed to glow, red embers swirling through the air like an incandescent fog. 

And out of the corner of his eye, Aang saw another figure descending from above. 

Ozai, having landed on the ground, noticed the strange phenomenon. Curiosity got the better of him, and as he turned toward the source of the heat, Aang should have taken the chance to strike. But he was just as curious, and as he craned his neck up to look at the figure falling towards them, it exploded. 

Aang was the first to get out of the way as fire rained down, throwing himself out of range of the projectiles. Ozai, emboldened by the power of the comet, lashed out with his own firebending, and when the shots of fire collided, a shockwave filled the air.

Aang rode the hurricane force winds to safety. Ozai was knocked to the ground as the land around them caught fire. Waves of it stretched across the Earth Kingdom shore, making it difficult for Aang to see, hear, or even think. Then, a hazy silhouette appeared within the flames, as the figure from before walked silently through them, seemingly unbothered by the intense heat. 

And as the outline emerged from within the flames, Aang felt tears fill his eyes. A light that had died was rekindled, and his inner fire roared with the sentiment that all was right again. 

“You!” Aang and Ozai shouted at the same time, one’s voice filled with triumph, and the other’s with rage.

“Hello,” the Fire Prince said quietly. “Zuko here.”

If anyone asked Aang later whether he wept with joy in front of the Fire Lord, he would deny it. It never happened. 

Zuko stopped a good distance away from Ozai, but his eyes were directed towards Aang. His gaze swept across his student, searching for injuries. When all he saw were mild burns, he resisted the urge to sigh in relief. He directed a small, nearly imperceptible smile toward his friend, before returning his gaze to Ozai.

“Impossible,” the Fire Lord whispered. “You’re dead.”

Zuko smiled at the man who birthed him, and Aang shivered. The smile held no joy.

“I got better,” Zuko replied, and Aang gaped. 

Was Zuko...mocking Ozai? The Fire Lord seemed to realize it too, because he snarled, and his fingers twitched as if he was ready to throw lightning again but holding himself in check. 

Aang didn’t question why. Ozai probably knew that Zuko could redirect it, but it was more than that. Zuko was different. He carried himself with the same quiet confidence that he had since arriving at the Western Air Temple, but whereas before he moved with the determined grace of a wounded warrior, one who had yearned for something unreachable, now he walked with the stride of someone who had reached the unreachable, one who was as assured of their own strength as the sun was of its heat, or the earth of its strength, of the ocean of its depths, or the wind of its freedom. 

Aang could feel the vibrations of his heartbeat with his seismic sense. It beat at a perfectly casual rhythm, as if he wasn’t face to face with the man who had burned him, shamed him, and set him on a path he would forever regret. He looked wiser, stronger, and…

...Older. What?

Aang blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, and yes, Zuko looked older than when he’d seen him last. What was going on? He’d only been gone a few weeks, and yet he looked at least a couple years further into adolescence. Perhaps even nearing adulthood. 

“Zuko...what happened to you?” Aang whispered, but Zuko heard it.

“Long story, Aang. And one for another time.”

Ozai was observing Zuko with a critical gaze, as if trying to reconcile the man in front of him with the boy who had knelt at his feet, or even the one who had burst into his chambers during the eclipse and declared he would follow his own path.

Ozai then smirked. “You always were stubborn, Zuko. And you don’t die easily, I’ll give you that. Sometimes I wonder how far that would have taken you, had I used that stubbornness to my advantage. Weak or not, you were loyal to your father and to your nation. Perhaps I would have found use for you, yet. And yet, here we are again. This is the third time you’ve challenged me. I wonder, are you ready to die, this time?” 

Zuko didn’t answer as his golden gaze bore into Ozai’s. Aang, infuriated by Ozai’s disregard for the life of his own flesh and blood, was ready to defend Zuko to his dying breath. He planted his feet deep within the earth.

Then, Zuko’s eyes flickered back to Aang’s.

“Aang, do you mind sitting this one out?” the Fire Prince asked.

Aang startled as he realized that Zuko had something to prove. “But...I’m the Avatar! This is my responsibility! I can’t keep leaving others to fend for themselves!” His words had a desperate edge to them, and Zuko’s gaze softened.

“I know, Aang. You have every right to want to bring this bastard to justice yourself. It’s because of people like him that you lost everything, and I know this is your duty, not mine. If you ask me to step aside, I will. But from one friend to another, I’m asking you...will you grant my selfish request?”

Aang’s mind once again flashed back to when he’d heard about Zuko’s banishment, how everything about him had suddenly made sense, and found that he couldn’t bring himself to deny his friend’s wish. But still…

“Will you be alright?” he asked.

Zuko gave him a wry smile. “Well, what do you think?”

Aang shouldn’t have been so reassured. This was Fire Lord Ozai. But remembering how Zuko had descended like a comet onto the battlefield, walked through a shroud of searing flames like he was fire incarnate, and strode right up to Ozai, so full of confidence, Aang realized he couldn’t see Zuko losing. He just hoped he wasn’t wrong about this.

If anyone deserved to beat Ozai, it was Zuko.

“Okay,” he said, and watched Zuko’s eyes fill with gratitude. 

Ozai laughed. He laughed like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. 

“This is a new level of foolishness, even for you, Zuko! Together you might have actually stood a chance! And you’re throwing that chance away so you can what? Redeem yourself? I suppose it’s safe to say you’ve graduated from groveling like a coward, embarking on a fool’s errand for my approval, and running away from home to join a children’s rebellion! Now you’ve moved on throwing your life away!” He laughed harder, but Zuko didn’t react to the bait. He almost looked bored by it. 

“Very well, son, let’s end this foolishness where it began. Agni Kai.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Try to keep up, old man.”

His nonchalance seemed to take Ozai by surprise, but the Fire Lord just snorted. “You are suicidal. Let’s get this farce over with.”

As the two went through the motions to begin the duel, Aang stood to the side, feeling nervous and conflicted. 

Then Ozai took a leap forward and bent a stream of fire towards Zuko. It wasn’t as nearly as large as the blasts he’d been sending towards Aang. He clearly didn’t expect Zuko to pose as much of a challenge as the Avatar. 

Zuko didn’t move an inch.

What’s he doing!? Aang gasped as the flames engulfed Zuko, who made no move to disperse them. But something strange happened. The fire...it just disappeared as soon as it reached him. There was no motion on Zuko’s part. No counter, not even the most basic defense. It just vanished before it hit him. 

Ozai’s eyes widened as he witnessed what should have been impossible. He bent two more streams of fire at Zuko, much larger this time. The result was the same. None of it touched him. It was as if some mystical force was stopping the flames from reaching him. 

Frustrated, Ozai propelled himself forward and shoved a fist of fire at Zuko, point blank. Such was the heat behind the attack that Aang was sweating from it, even from where he was standing. 

The sea of flames parted around Zuko’s body, leaving him unharmed. After a long moment of bending a continuous stream of comet enhanced fire at his son’s face, only for Zuko to stand in one spot, staring in boredom. Ozai finally stopped. He stared in open astonishment at Zuko’s uninjured form, uncomprehending. 

“Oh, you’re done?” Zuko asked.

Aang now had beads of sweat running down his face that weren’t from the heat. What Zuko had just done...despite what it looked like, he realized there was nothing mystical about it. 

Zuko was simply firebending. And that should have been impossible. All bending required motion. It naturally followed the body’s movements. That was why benders learned forms, to maximize the effects of their elements. Even Bumi, one of the most powerful earthbenders alive, needed at least his head and neck to bend, and he was an anomaly. 

And yet here was Zuko, snuffing out flames from arguably the most powerful firebender in the world who was currently jacked up on comet juice, while not moving a muscle.

It was when Ozai took another few shots at him, only to yield the same result, that Aang felt it. 

Zuko’s breathing. It changed rhythm every time the flames came towards him. With his earthbending, it was easy to perceive.

Firebending comes from the breath. It was one of the first lessons Aang had learned from him.

Zuko was snuffing out the flames just by breathing. Aang was struck numb. The level of power and control that would require...

“What...what are you?” Ozai asked, taking an instinctual step back.

Zuko ignored his question. As the Fire Prince finally raised his fist, Ozai finally got over his shock, realizing he was right in range of a counterattack. He sucked in a breath, ready to disperse whatever fire his traitor son could throw at him. 

Only for Zuko to sock him across the face. A sharp crack sounded through the air as the Fire Lord’s head snapped to the side, and Aang’s jaw hung loose.

Did that...really just happen?

Ozai seemed to be wondering the same thing. He raised a hand to his aching cheekbone. It came away red. Such was his befuddlement at the development that he could only stare down at his bloody fingers in bewilderment. He knew he was wide open, but Zuko hadn’t bent fire a single time during a spirit forsaken Agni Kai, and it was putting him completely off balance.

“Did—did you just—”

“That was for Mom,” Zuko’s voice interrupted, and Ozai’s face morphed back into rage as he realized he was being toyed with, as if he was some undisciplined child throwing a tantrum. 

Fire coiled around his hand as he moved to claw at Zuko’s face. “You insolent little—”

The only warning was the barest twitch of Zuko’s arm, and suddenly Ozai was pulling back to form a picture perfect stance to disperse the flames.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Zuko to actually punch him with a fistful of fire, and even as the flames were snuffed out, Zuko’s fist continued onward to strike Ozai in the chest. 

The breath left his lungs as he staggered back, and another blow impacted with his chin, knocking him off balance. As he tried to regain his footing, Zuko swept his feet from under him. A casual motion that resulted in Ozai’s back hitting the ground. His eyes widened as he saw Zuko looming over him, fire gathering around his hand to strike Ozai’s prone form.

Fire shot from Ozai’s feet, propelling him away, and then into the air. He snarled as he gained an aerial advantage, confidence restored. He circled back around and rained fire down on Zuko, but once again the fire parted harmlessly around him. 

Zuko looked slightly annoyed now. As Ozai kept trying to find a hole in his son’s defense, Zuko’s body suddenly erupted. A shroud of flames formed around him, encasing him entirely in fire, and yet seemingly not burning him at all.

Then he bent his knees, and the ground beneath him exploded.

Ozai’s eyes widened in horror as a miniature comet propelled itself towards him, with Zuko at its center. He flew out of the way as it passed him by, but Zuko changed directions abruptly, homing in on Ozai. The Fire Lord formed a massive shield of flames in front of himself, and Zuko collided with it. Another explosion rocked the air, and the force of it sent Ozai hurtling towards the ground. He impacted the earth and gasped as his bones creaked dangerously. 

Breathing heavily, Ozai looked back up at Zuko, who was hovering in the center of a fiery maelstrom. 

He was a force of nature. Ozai couldn’t describe it any other way. For the first time in a long while, Ozai felt true fear. 

The human comet descended slowly towards the ground, and the fire faded as Zuko landed on the barren earth.

“Anything else you want to try?” the prince asked with derision. 

Never before had Ozai felt rage like this. All of his power, all of his prodigious skill, rendered obsolete by this...this weak, cowardly child who had once knelt at his feet and begged for mercy. 

And now, the roles were reversed. Zuko was looming down over him with contempt and ridicule as he had once done to the boy.

“No lightning today?” Zuko mocked. “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll redirect it?” 

Ozai let out a guttural scream of fury. “You want lightning, boy!?” 

His hands went through the motions, a deep, irrational anger compelling him forward despite the logical side of his brain saying it would not work. Zuko had been taken off guard last time, and still managed to nearly hit him head on with his own lightning. 

His anger cooled as he went through the motions, and suddenly, a plan formed in his mind. The Avatar was still watching from the sidelines, his eyes wide with amazement and worry. Ozai’s eyes narrowed, and he smirked. He knew how to end this. 

He took aim at the Avatar, about to release—

Pain flooded Ozai’s senses as lightning struck his leg. 

He gasped as his stance was disrupted. He felt as the bone, muscle, and flesh in his leg was shredded and liquified on contact. An injury that would likely never heal. 

The lightning in Ozai’s fingers shot harmlessly into the sky as he collapsed, screaming in agony. 

Zuko’s fingers were still extended, eyes narrowed to slits. “Eyes on your opponent, Ozai.”

Even through the haze of pain, Ozai knew three things.

One. Zuko could now bend lightning. Two. Ozai had just lost. Three. Zuko had always been a terrible bender, but his aim had never been subpar. He had aimed to cripple, not to kill. 

He couldn’t describe the feeling that bubbled up in his chest as the weight of those three realizations bore down on him. He heard someone laughing hysterically, and realized it was him. 

He was beaten. Beaten in every way imaginable, by his failure of a son. Reality was crumbling before his eyes. Why then, should he not laugh in the face of death?

As Zuko walked up to him, Ozai propped himself up on his good leg, letting out a few more chuckles, and then wincing and gritting his teeth as the movement strained his abused body.

Zuko stopped in front of him. His amber gaze bore a hole into Ozai, and so much went unsaid. 

Finally, the victor spoke. “Is something funny?” Zuko asked, seeming genuinely puzzled by Ozai’s unhinged behavior. 

“In a cosmic sort of way, yes,” Ozai said. “So much potential, gone to waste, because I assumed Azula was the prodigy. What you could have accomplished, Zuko…”

Zuko sighed tiredly. “Azula was the prodigy, you idiot. I got where I am with nothing but stubbornness and bullheaded drive. You underestimated how far those traits could take a person, and you were blindsided. It’s as simple as that.”

Ozai, surprisingly, took no issue with being insulted to his face. Zuko had proven himself Ozai’s superior. In the world they lived in, that meant Zuko could do as he pleased. Ozai, the inferior bender, had no right to object to it. That was his philosophy, and he supposed he would die by it now.

“I suppose you’re right,” Ozai muttered. Who was he to argue, now? “How far you’ve come, my son. Finish it.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at Ozai. “You don’t get to do that. You’re not my father. Everything I’ve become has been in spite of you.”

“If you say so,” Ozai said with a shrug. He was surprisingly content with this outcome. “Either way, here you stand, about to end me. You’ve become strong, and I wasn’t strong enough. From the moment you surpassed me, my end was inevitable. We’re more alike than you realize.”

Zuko was now staring at Ozai with a calculating gaze. Aang had breathed a sigh of relief when Ozai’s lightning shot into the sky, far away from him. Truthfully, he hadn’t been ready to deflect it, and he was glad for Zuko’s quick reflexes. But now, he was tense. He could tell that it had been Zuko’s intention to kill Ozai from the moment he walked up to the vile man. And as much as his soul had screamed for him to protest, he wasn’t sure if he had the right. Aang had been ready to do the same, earlier.

But now? Aang was just confused. Zuko’s eyes hadn’t left Ozai, and he hadn’t made a move to end it. The prince’s gaze was unreadable. Suddenly, a grim, ugly smile appeared on his face. 

“You know, you might be right, Ozai. We’re not that different after all.”

What!? Aang couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He wanted to scream in protest, to tell him he was wrong, to shout that Zuko was nothing like Ozai—

“I’m not going to end you,” Zuko said, putting a stop to Aang’s protests before they could begin. 

Ozai blinked a couple times, before his gaze hardened and he growled.

“Are you a fool still, Zuko? As long as I live, your reign will not go unchallenged.”

“Believe me,” Zuko said. “You won’t be a threat to my rule.” His voice was dry, but there was something else in the words that made Aang tense up. 

“And yet there is no benefit to keeping me alive. Do what must be done, Zuko. Or do you mean to tell me that with all the power in the world, you are still weak?”

“You still lecture me,” Zuko drawled. “But you’re the one kneeling this time. Have you considered that you’re just not worth the effort?” 

“Don’t patronize me!” Ozai snapped. “When the strong and the weak collide, the weak are snuffed out! That’s just the way the world works!”

“Under your reign, maybe,” Zuko said, voice soft. “But you’re the weak one now, aren’t you? And the weak don’t get to make the rules.”

Ozai’s jaw snapped shut. That...was something he couldn’t argue with. “Why spare me?” he asked instead, genuinely curious at his son’s logic. “Why choose mercy?”

“Mercy?” Zuko asked, as if he was testing the word. Aang breathed heavily, growing terrified for reasons he couldn’t fathom. “I’ll answer your question for another. Why did you spare me when I was thirteen? I was weak then, wasn’t I?”

No, you weren’t, Aang wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

“That wasn’t mercy!” Ozai shouted, fed up with this line of discussion. “I just wanted you to suffer, to live with your fail—” 

He paused as it clicked into place. 

Aang paled.

Ozai paled.

Oh. Oh.

Zuko lifted his hand, heat radiating from his palm, and pressed it against Ozai’s face. 

Oh no.

“Aang! What happ—Zuko!?” 

Katara, Sokka, Toph, and Suki had arrived. Aang hadn’t even noticed they’d finished taking down the airships. Only Sokka seemed to be injured, walking with a limp. The group stared in amazement at the very much alive Zuko, and at Ozai, who knelt at his feet, one leg shattered, eyes wide with fear. Zuko had ignored their arrival.

“You will learn respect,” the Fire Prince whispered. “And suffering will be your teacher.”

Katara gasped.

Toph hissed.

Suki cupped her hands over her mouth.

Sokka made an unintelligible noise.

No one dared move. Aang was shaking. He should stop this. He had to stop this. But he felt frozen, rooted to the spot. 

And then Ozai screamed. 

He screamed for what felt like hours, but was really about five seconds. When Zuko let go of his face, he collapsed onto his stomach, pale and shaking. 

There wasn’t a mark on him. 

Ozai tried futilely to rise, to prop himself up, but his arms were shaking so badly that he couldn’t even accomplish this simple task.

“What...did you do to me?” he gasped.

“Did you know that chi runs through pathways inside the body? It’s like a network of energy that runs through the seven chakras, like rivers into the ocean. I burned your chi pathways until they withered away. You’ll never bend again.”

Silence met his proclamation. The group stared at Zuko like he was an otherworldly being. 

One could see the different emotions crossing Ozai’s face in plain view. It was like observing a trainwreck. They could all tell the exact moment he understood what had just happened. His leg would never heal. He couldn’t bend. He would never take the throne again. He wasn’t just weak. He was an invalid. And Zuko had no plans to kill him.

“You’ll spend the rest of your life an empty shell of your self proclaimed greatness,” Zuko continued. “You’ll know, in every waking hour you wish for death, that you are defeated. Disgraced. Dishonored, as I once was. But for you, there will be no redemption. That is my mercy, Ozai.”

And with that said, he turned his back on the man who had once been his father, who he had just thrust into the deepest pits of despair. And he walked away.

The members of Team Avatar watched him. Mesmerized. Horrified. Not knowing what to think. 

“Zuko...what...happened to you?” Aang asked again.

Zuko stopped and turned towards the young airbender, and his gentle smile formed such a stark contrast with what he had just witnessed that Aang felt disoriented. 

“Like I said, Aang. A story for another time. Over tea, maybe.”


End file.
